


The Marauder's Garden

by RinBob2410



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Gen, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Past Tense, Retrospective, Scars, Werewolf Reveal, Werewolf Transformation, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 03:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20557541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinBob2410/pseuds/RinBob2410
Summary: Beauty can be found where you'd least expect it. Even through the history of Remus' scars throughout his childhood.





	The Marauder's Garden

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short little thing I wrote cause I felt like people needed to acknowledge Remus' scars more. I kinda wish I went more into detail plot wise, but I want to save detail for in case I ever want to do a Marauders during Hogwarts series or smth.
> 
> Also fair warning: I think some timeline stuff may be a bit wrong?

Remus was always good at hiding the scars from the start. He had been hiding it at home since the very first transformation when he scratched up his arms. The scars always made his parents look so sad. Or maybe sad isn’t the right word, it was something more complex than that. Melancholy? Depressed? Pitying? Mournful? Wronged? He decided to refer to it as “the look,” and as a werewolf you get “the look” quite a lot. It made him feel squirmy inside, and a bit embarrassed. As a kid, he wasn’t sure what the core of it was that was so uncomfortable about that look, but there were some thoughts and emotions behind it that he did understand. He didn’t want his parents to be constantly reminded of his little mangled body, even though it’d be like adding a drop of water into an overflowing barrel. But, he argued, for all he knew, maybe it would be more like a straw on the camel’s back, and being exposed to just how awful all his bodily harm is would finally break his parents. Even if that wasn’t the case, he wanted to lighten the load for them any way he could. He wanted them to be happy and he wanted to play games and have them tell him stories about work or fairy tales and have his mom sing all her pretty songs to him. The less they knew about the scars, the better. (But, and he never liked to admit it, it ultimately didn’t matter in the end. Both of his parents would see the scars anyways after the full moon when he would try and fail to bandage is own wounds, and they would come in to insist that they patch him up for him. Remus would agree, partly so they could feel they like they could help his pain at least a little bit, but mostly because he was too tired to disagree.)

At school, he made an extra effort to cover up any possible wounds. He was hyperaware of all of his strange qualities that pointed to the signs, and his scars were at the top of his list to focus on. He was always aware of his sleeves, his collar, his trousers, anything that could reveal any sign of something being wrong with him. But then in first year, after his first night alone in the shack, he came back to school with large pink scars across his face. Remus felt he might as well paint “WEREWOLF” in glittering face paint across his forehead, but tried not to cave into his anxious thoughts telling him that everyone knew. People asked all sorts of questions, especially his friends who had no sense of politeness in the first place. He stuck to one firm story, the most boring story he could think of: I stepped on a cursed rake. And then he would laugh about it, as if laughing at his own stupidity, but really he was laughing at the dark irony that such a wound could come realistically from something so simple and in reality something so horrendous and frightening. Most people laughed heartily with him. His dormmates laughed too, but he suspected they knew he was lying. Remus barely managed to hide all the wounds, but he succeeded at keeping his secret safe.

Well, at least he thought it was. But then his friends found out about him. That night had him crying on his knees, begging his friends to not tell anyone so Dumbledore and his parents wouldn’t get in trouble. He told them that he’d leave, that he understood if they didn’t want him as their roommate anymore, if they wanted him to leave Hogwarts forever. After they accepted him with a warm hug and words of care and support and managed to make Remus feel the happiest he had ever felt in his life, they began to ask the questions. He told them that, no, he didn’t get that scar on his face from the rake. But he didn’t elaborate. He didn’t elaborate on any of the other scars either. He could talk about what it’s like to be a werewolf, basic details like day-to-day life, an explanation about his home-life, names of teachers who know, the reality or falseness of different myths; Factual information. But they still decided it was their duty to make sure he doesn’t scar himself again, to accompany their friend during his trying times. Remus still hid his body, and changed in the bathroom, and continued to anxiously pull on sleeves. He knew his friends had probably noticed that he’s hiding more scars, but they don’t forced him to show them, and he was grateful.

It’s not until third year that Sirius walks in on him while he’s in the bathroom on one of the rare occasions that he forgot to lock the door. He’s not fully undressed, but his pants are still on at least. However, he’s got his shirt on his arms, and his back is in full view. Remus turns his head in surprise at first, then panic as he realized the fullness of what Sirius is able to see now. Sirius no doubt knew Remus had more scars, but he didn’t know just how deep and just how many there were. He looked shocked then dark like he was trying to contain his emotions. He apologized and closed the door with a soft ‘click’. Remus rushed out immediately, wanting to explain, but he didn’t know how to phrase his apologies, and instead all he could say is

“Sirius.” 

Said boy looked back at him, and it’s the first time anybody but his parents had given him “the look.” It looked horrible laced with Sirius’ normally carefree features.

“I’m sorry.”

Sirius walked out, still clearly angry and emotional that Remus hid all these markings. And Remus felt ashamed of himself. He later explained to all of them that he hid the scars not because he didn’t trust them, but because he hated when people got so serious and concerned towards him when they saw them. He didn’t want to remind everyone, and he didn’t want to remind himself. They tell them they understood, and hugged him through his guilt. They smiled and told him that he can continue hiding it if he wants, but they want him to know that it’s alright for someone to be concerned about him every once in awhile. Remus still wouldn’t change in front of any of them, but he wasn’t so self-conscious about his collars or sleeves anymore.

During fourth year during breakfast, Remus received a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that talked about a werewolf attack on a few missing children, aged 9, 7, and 6 respectively. The attacker was Fenrir Greyback, a name that Remus knew, a man that he had pitied for what must have been a life full of guilt. Remus looked at his picture: A snarling beast of a man who looked like a werewolf even in his human form. His dark eyes stared through the paper as if staring at Remus himself, and Remus felt his body break out in a cold sweat as his mind remembered things he only had to relive in his darkest night terrors. He could feel the hot breath and the growl of a wolf, the pain that came after, the warm blood dripping from his neck. He remembered his own scream as his consciousness had faded in and out. A quote from Greyback accompanying the picture said he aims to infect enough children so that werewolves could rise against the wizarding world. 

Remus felt sick to his stomach, and then he felt a bubbling pit of anger in his chest. His hands shook around the newspaper, his sleeves slipped down a little, and a couple of the Gryffindor girls were looking at him with concern as he glowered with uncharacteristically loose emotions at the newspaper. His friends immediately jumped up and led him upstairs and the moment they reached their in the dorm, they didn’t even have to ask for an explanation because Remus was quick to start venting his fury. Before he said a word though, he moved his robes down his shoulder enough to reveal a large bite on the crook of his neck. The only scar on his body not caused by himself. The others gasped and gave him “the look,” but Remus didn’t care and didn’t give them enough time to fully process their emotions. He handed them the paper, looked to his bite and said “Fenrir Greyback” with as much distaste as he could possibly manage to get in his voice, before he ranted out his story and his old beliefs in the morality of his attacker and everything that Fenrir Greyback had done to him and the pain that he brought to him and his family.

When he saw his father that summer, he demanded an explanation. He almost regretted knowing afterwards. It was easier accepting his fate when it was caused by chance. Now he couldn’t help festering in the unfairness of it all. He was merely collateral used to get back at a prejudice statement. Petty revenge for something so small.

By fifth year the marauders had joined him to the shrieking shack, despite him insisting that it couldn’t possibly be safe, how this is their last opportunity to turn back around, how he isn’t himself during the full moon and they likely won’t recognize him. They didn’t listen, they didn’t care. James just yawned and the others whispered about some stupid offtopic thing as if this was a lecture from Professor Binns. And though Remus knew they were doing this on purpose to make a point, he feels as frustrated as if they really were just being ignorant teenagers. (But, internally he appreciated the gesture all the same).

It had been the first time the rest of them had seen the way to get past the Whomping Willow, and Remus knew they have probably memorized it already, much to his chagrin. He walked down a tunnel with them, then, after a bit of a hassle, up into the shack. Remus told them to switch form, and they listened and followed his lead through the house and into a bedroom on the first floor. Five minutes before the sun officially began to set, Remus started taking off his clothes. He felt awkward, undressing in front of some animals he knows are technically his friends. But, it’s not as if they were ogling him, and he felt too sick to focus too hard on it anyway. It was easier to pretend like he was just changing in front of something like a household pet this way. He still felt incredibly weird though, even though he warned them ahead of time that he undresses before the full moon so he didn’t rip his clothes. Well, weird is really just an umbrella term for how he felt. Embarrassed, insecure, frightened, awkward. Most of all, he felt vulnerable. They could see him now, with all his scars. Every inch of white and pink lines and indents, and they were going to see the rest of his insecurities in only a few minutes when the moon would come out. But, he tried to look on the positive side; The great thing about their animal faces was that he couldn’t see “the look” in their eyes. The only sign that they had even felt any bit of sad emotions is through the flattening of their ears and their bowed necks. If this were in any other circumstance, Remus would have even bitterly laughed at the strange adorableness of it.

But for now all he could do was focus on the moon. He crouched down, too afraid to stand up straight. His underbelly was too exposed. He didn’t want them to see his face twist in agony when the real pain would start happening, they would already see what’s happening to his body. Seeing his face would be overkill. He hugged himself, digging his fingers into his skin to try and keep himself grounded through the pain. He was breathing heavy, and was starting to sweat. He tried to keep it all in, but it was so hard to focus on that when all his brain was thinking of was the pattern of transformation pain again and again until pain seemed like a strange alien emotion and he could pick out the layers of sharpness, itching, and burning of it. If there was any moment that he didn’t want to scream out from a transformation, it had been now in front of the rest of the marauders. But, as always, his desires didn’t survive through the typical pain a werewolf experiences in his life. He screamed out with the first snap of a bone. He grinded his teeth through the patchy hair growing on his body, but then screamed again as different bones elongated. His fingers scratched at his sides, growing too sharp, but he couldn’t loosen his grip because he was in too much pain all around to even realize what his claws were doing. More bones snapped and elongated and his teeth turned sharp and eventually he lost himself.

When he woke up, he realized that his new scars were at a minimum, and all his friends are curled around him sleeping. He cried in pure relief and happiness that they were all alive and everything worked as planned.

In their sixth year, they began taking Moony out to Hogsmeade, and Remus could begin feeling conscious while in his wolf form. However, of course, he had moments when he would get too close to people. Sirius and James would have to hold him back, as his consciousness would suddenly flicker off and he was back to being a ravenous beast. He didn’t want to hear the stories, because he knows that James and Sirius were avoiding the bits about how close he got to hurting someone, and instead were talking up how they were able to hold him off heroically. Their message to him was clear: It’s alright, your safe with us around. Remus knew though, that they did not come out unharmed. They were tugging on their collars too much, and Remus feared the worse. He never expected to have to share his scars with others, and the idea made him feel like a true monster for letting them come with. He finally sees the scars when they’re changing, because neither have mastered the skill of hiding them. They’re not big, but it’s still too big for Remus’ conscious.

Every time they tried to take him to Hogsmeade during transformations, Remus initially refused. However, somehow they were able to persuade him to come out, just like they always did, and so they ventured out again. James and Sirius would occasionally get more scars, but it didn’t happen very often, and they both had started wearing them like badges of honor, and when people commented on it, they would come up with crazy stories of heroic acts to tell others on how they got them. Remus decided that as long as they didn’t mind, and as long as they had powdered silver and dittany in constant supply at the Shrieking Shack, he wouldn’t stress nearly as bad about their scars anymore. They were clearly strong enough to fend off any attack the wolf might try.

And, in seventh year, when in the Gryffindor common room, with not too many other students around, Remus started unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. It was summer, and he made the excuse that it was too hot. The scars on his arms and neck were visible, but the younger years are too intimidated to ask, and the Gryffindor girls and anyone else who’d ask were tired of the roundabout conversations James and Sirius always pulled so Remus wouldn’t have to answer. So eventually they gave up, and Remus found that he didn’t care that people could see the scars. (Well, at least for now). He’d made it through Hogwarts hiding his scars and hiding himself, he might as well leave an impression of mystery to him before he had to leave and officially register as a werewolf. He couldn’t help but want to tease his peers in this way. And, if in the process he finally felt more comfortable in his own skin, then that was even better.

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever thought about how the others must have scars from Moony too, since they were the ones who held him back when he got intense?
> 
> Anyway maybe I'll continue with a sequel to this or smth, cause I kind of want to do an others' pov on this.


End file.
